Never Too Late
by CNJ
Summary: Draco Malfoy's son, Salazar is growing up & beginning to question everything he's learned from his dad. Strong language and controversial issues. Enjoy!
1. Prologue

Hii, thanks for reviewing my other fanfics, faithful readers! I appreciate it! I'll keep adding to the ones not yet complete soon, but lately, I've been thinking of what the HP characters' adult years will be like, so I have at least two stories in my head I want to get down this summer...this one is about Draco Malfoy's son, Salazar. Draco hopes to mold his son into a duplicate of himself, but it backfires unexpectedly, esp. when Salazar starts at Hogwarts and befriends some of Draco's worst enemies' kids. **_Disclaimer_**: This story is also written in a similar genre to the movie _American Beauty_, so some of the lines and happenings may be very similar to that movie, which was sort of an ironic satire genre. So be aware that some of the nuances and parts of the storyline belongs to Dreamworks Entertainment, not the current author. And in addition, characters that HP fans recognize belong to the wonderful JK Rowlings, not the current author, just so you know that no copyright infringement is intended; this author is not making any profit or gaining world recognition for this story; I'm writing it for solely my own and other HP's fans' pleasure...soooo enjoy, all fellow Potterheads! 

**Never Too Late**

_By_: CNJ 

_PG-13_

**1: Prologue:**

**Zar:**

At first, my father wanted me to go to Durmstrang Wizard/Witch School, which according to him was far better than Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. But Mum didn't want me too far away. My parents argued back and forth on that for a while. Father, who had gone to Hogwarts in his youth, said that the teachers were not very good and on top of that, he always told me he'd been screwed over one too many times by nosy, two-timing students, especially those from one of Hogwart's houses, Gryffindor. Over time, as I approached the age of eleven, when students begin secondary school here in England, I realized that my father's biggest grudge was against someone named Potter.   
"That Potter bastard ruined my seventh year there," Father complained many times to my mother and me, who listened quietly, my mum nodding in agreement. "He always had to be the center of attention and was the teachers' pet. He'd break all kinds of rules along with his little cronies in his little clique and the most he'd get is a slight slap on the wrist."   
"What kind of rules did he break?" I asked, wondering more about this Potter person that my father hated so much.   
"All kinds," my father said with an impatient wave of his hand. "I'll never forget in our first year, he and his yes-men sneaked off the ground to visit this giant oaf of an excuse of a gamekeeper at that school to have some kind of tea party late at night. I knew it wasn't right, so I alerted the then Deputy Headmistress, McGonagall. That was a mistake on my part, because McGonagall was incompetent and biased toward that Potter bastard. She lumped me in detention with them and to make that weekend worse for me, all four of us had to spend it with that huge oaf in that GreatForest. And Potter was laughing the whole time that McGonagall nabbed me. He just loved to see me get into trouble."   
"Yes, I remember how he always gave himself such self-important airs," My mother nodded in agreement. She'd gone to school with Father and they're the same age. In fact, they'd started dating around their third year there. She then kind of gave a sideways smile at my father as she took a platter of croissants from our house-elf Simmy. "But let's not forget how you brought him down a notch that fall of our seventh year...remember that precious photo album his parents left him that got destroyed?"   
"Yes, how well I remember," Father smiled knowingly.   
"What happened?" I asked.   
"He carelessly left it out, so someone got hold of it and accidentally dropped it into the flame of one of the Great Hall's torches," my father coolly explained. "His armored little pride cracked and he broke down crying in front of everyone at dinner. He ran out of there so fast you'd think a mountain troll was after him, but everyone saw his tears." I didn't say anything to that one, but it seemed like no one deserved that fate, even "that Potter bastard." 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ 

Durmstrang closed down the year I turned ten, so that ended the debate between my parents about what school I'd end up at. So to Hogwarts I went the fall I was eleven.   
"Work hard and stay out of trouble, son," Father admonished as he and mum dropped me off at Platform Nine And Three-Quarters at Kings Cross train station where Hogwarts students were to catch the Hogwarts Express to school that September morning I was to start at Hogwarts. "And watch what kind of friends you make..." he added. "There are still many of the wrong sorts at Hogwarts that you don't want to be making friends with."   
"Especially muggle-bloods," my mother added ominously.   
"And the Gryffindor lot," my father warned. "They excel at trouble."   
"Yes, Father...Mother," I nodded, although I really didn't understand why my parents were so against muggle-borns and the Gryffindors. We shook hands goodbye and I climbed onto the train, lugging my trunk along. I found an empty compartment and watched other parents kiss and hug their kids goodbye.   
I thought about my own parents and really had no memory of either one of them really hugging me. I watched a particularly affectionate-looking set of parents hugging their daughter goodbye. I could see that even though they were wearing wizard/witch floppy hats, the parents had jet-black hair, the kind I sometimes wished I had instead of my own light-brown hair. The man wore thick round glasses and the woman had a black braid down her back. There were two girls with them who I assumed were their daughters and apparently one of them was taking off for Hogwarts. The other daughter appeared to be around ten, so I knew she still had a year or so to go before it was her turn for Hogwarts. The older girl hugged them all one last time, then climbed aboard, lugging her trunk with her. That's when I noticed there were several other parents with them, another couple, and a mum with thick rather bushy dark hair kissing her two kids goodbye before they boarded.   
Platform Nine and Three Quarters slowly emptied out and with a slight jolt, the Hogwarts train took off. I sat back, enjoying the plush blue seats and the roomy compartment.   
"Mind if we join you?" someone asked from the door and I looked up to see a tall boy with deep auburn hair and a large nose. With him were two girls.   
"Sure..." I nodded, moving over to make room for them.   
"Thanks..." They said and sat. One of the girls was the one I'd seen with the dark-haired couple and the other one had straight brown hair and brown eyes and I realized that she was the one who'd been with the bushy-haired woman.   
"I'm Andrew Weasley," the boy said with a smile.   
"And I'm Eva Potts," the girl with the dark-haired parents smiled as well. She had medium-brown hair and a rather round face with large blue eyes.   
"And I'm Geneveve Granison," the second girl added, smiling also. "Pleasure meeting you. Call me Veve." They seemed so warm and friendly that I grinned back and introduced myself.   
"I'm Salazar Malfoy," I said and we shook hands. On an inspiration and maybe eager to start secondary school on a fresh note, I impulsively added, "Call me Zar." My new companions nodded and we got to talking about what we'd expect at Hogwarts. I also found out that their parents had been friends since their Hogwarts days. In fact, they'd met on the Hogwarts Express just like we did. I also found out that Andrew had an older brother, Charles and a younger sister, Anne. Eva's sister, Margo was a year younger than her and both of them were adopted. Veve had an older brother Evan and her mum was widowed.   
At one point, a plump witch stopped by, asking us if we wanted any treats. The treats were scrumptious-looking, so we bought a chunk of them, then feasted. The most interesting of all the treats were the chocolate frogs with cards in them picturing either prominent witches and wizards or famous events.   
"Hey, here's the one on the final defeat of Tom Riddle!" Andrew declared. I'd heard about that story vaguely and had always wanted to know more about it, but neither Father or Mother would ever discuss it with me. All they would say was that Tom Riddle had noble intentions, but others thwarted him and a group of Gryffindors had quashed him for good one November night.   
"I have three of those," Eva put in. "Hey, there're my dad and your mum, Veve!"   
"Hey, let me see...?" I asked. Sure enough, the picture was a dark, chilly-looking wooded area with bare blowing trees. In a clearing among the trees was a group of robed young people surrounding an ominous-looking robed wizard, silently chanting spells until he dissolved into ashes. Among the young people, who were different ages, was a boy with glasses, a snubby nose, and shaggy black hair, who I knew was Eva's dad, a girl with bushy brown hair who appeared to be Veve's mum, and a tall boy with red hair. All three of them appeared to be about seventeen.   
"That's my dad," Andrew pointed to the red-haired boy. "And that's my Aunt Ginny and Uncle Neville." he pointed to two others next to my dad." We watched Tom Riddle dissolve, then the flashes of the celebrations that happened afterward. Then the Gryffindor house icon flashed up with the words _Gryffindor champions restore goodness and freedom to the magical world and end the dark times forever_. Under the icon appeared a group of students.   
"That was all the Gryffindor students that year," Veve added. I wanted to know more about this, so they told me. Andrew and Eva's dads, Veve's mum and Andrew's aunt had been in Gryffindor together and had been friends, a foursome. It was in Andrew, Eva and Veve's parents seventh and final year at Hogwarts (Ginny was a year younger than the others) when they'd been on a Gryffindor retreat and had heard Tom Riddle, who used to call himself Voldemort lurking about in the woods surrounding the cabin they were staying in. So with the help of two teachers, they'd gone out and had confronted Tom Riddle, surrounded him and chanted spells to drive out the evil. It had turned out that Tom's good part of him had died years ago, leaving really nothing but an evil spirit that was housed in another's dead body, so he'd dissolved into ashes that night.   
"Wow..." I said in amazement. "You all are lucky to have such brave parents."   
"You haven't heard it before?" Eva asked, her brows slanting a bit.   
"Some of it, but not a very objective version of it," I confessed. "My parents are not among the most open-minded people on the planet." I also thought about how they think of the Gryffindors as troublemakers. But now from what I was hearing, the Gryffindors had been doing a lot of good for this world, esp. their courage in defeating Tom Riddle, who had killed innocent people.   
The train was almost at Hogwarts, so we changed into our robes and gathered our trunks together. Hogwarts turned out to be a beautiful castle. My new friends and I grabbed a boat together and gaped in wonder as the school came into view.   
Once we made it to the great front door, we were ushered in by a tall thin man who introduced himself as Deputy Headmaster George Norleck. We entered the huge hall minutes later. There were four tables and a row of teachers seated at a front table.   
"Headmistress McGonagall..." someone whispered behind me. "My mum remembers the first McGonagall, I think her name was Minerva...that's her great-niece Mintra, who took over last year after Professor Long retired. Sure enough, a tall plump woman stood and introduced herself as the Headmistress, Professor Mintra McGonagall.   
"When I call out each of your names, you will come forward, I will place the hat on your head, and the hat will determine which house you'll be in." On a high stool was a very old-looking hat that looked like it had been through ten wars. But to our amusement, it broke out into a little rhyming song about the houses. I remembered my parents had told me about being in Slytherin and I knew Father was hoping I'd be in it too. But I looked over at their table and wasn't so sure. To me, they seemed cliquish and kind of self-important. I wasn't sure I wanted to be part of them. Professor McGonagall began with out names. Veve was sorted into Gryffindor. Once my name was called, I jumped a little, then went up on shaky legs. I sat shakily and the last thing I saw were some students whispering as the hat covered my face. _Well, well, what have we here? I have a very good idea of where you should go_..._tradition and some parents might dictate Slytherin_...   
_No_, I mouthed in a silent pleading.   
_Buuut, something tells me that you're not the Slytherin kind, soooo, it'll be_...   
"GRYFFINDOR!" the hat finished out loud with a shout and cheers went up. I grinned shakily and headed to the Gryffindor table. Father is not going to be pleased about this one, I thought with a slight twinge of fear. But maybe he'd see that I didn't purposely choose this house. Strangely, I felt happy to be in Gryffindor. The students there greeted me warmly and I sensed a real open-mindedness and camaraderie among them. To Veve's and my relief, Eva and Andrew also were sorted into Gryffindor. No matter what Father said, I had the feeling these would be good years after all. And the more I listened to my fellow Gryffindors talk, laugh, compare schedules and eat, the more I knew that my parents are not always as right as they liked to pretend to be. 

More later! 


	2. This Is My Life

**_Disclaimer_**: This story is also written in a similar genre to the movie _American Beauty_, so some of the lines and happenings may be very similar to that movie, which was sort of an ironic satire genre. So be aware that some of the nuances and parts of the storyline belongs to Dreamworks Entertainment, not the current author. And in addition, characters that HP fans recognize belong to the wonderful JK Rowlings, not the current author, just so you know that no copyright infringement is intended; this author is not making any profit or gaining world recognition for this story; I'm writing it for solely my own and other HP's fans' pleasure...soooo enjoy, all fellow Potterheads! 

**Never Too Late**

_By_: CNJ 

_PG-13_

_Almost three years later_... 

**2: This Is My Life:**

**Zar**: 

Hello. I'm Salazar Malfoy and I'm fourteen years old. To my parents, Draco Malfoy and Pansy Parkinson Malfoy, I'm Salazar Malfoy. At school, however, I'm Zar, especially to my three closest friends, Andrew Weasley, Eva Potts, and Geneveve Granison.   
I'm a student at the Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry and I've just completed my third year there. So here I am now, almost three years later from that fateful day I met my friends on the Hogwarts Express and started my first year at Hogwarts.   
I'm back at home at Malfoy Manor for the summer holidays. Home. What an ironic word. I snickered snarkily under my breath at the thought as I unpacked my clothes and school things, leaving my broom and a picture of my friends and me in the trunk. I slide the trunk under my bed, hoping my father won't insist that I put it in the basement where he can lock it up.   
I then sat on my bed and started some of my summer homework and thought about how my friends and I have grown and evolved over the past few years. For one thing, my voice changed this year and is deeper while Eva Potts started her first period just yesterday. Andrew has shot up to almost five-eight in the past six months.   
We've gone through other things and I now know that Eva Potts is actually the daughter of "that Potter bastard" that my father badmouths and hates so much. Eva has a sister, Margo, who is a year younger than her.   
Andrew Weasley is the son of Ronald Weasley, another one that my father hates; Ronald was Potter's friend. So were Hermione Granger, Geneveve's mum, and Andrew's aunt Ginny.   
Ginny has twin daughters, Susan and Rose, who are two years behind us at Hogwarts. Ginny's also made a lot of money creating hundreds of new broom products and brands.   
Of course, my parents don't know any of this about my friends. Oh, they know I'm in Gryffindor and have three close friends, but of course, they've never allowed me to have them over and they don't know that Eva and Margo are Harry Potter's daughters. I know now that they are actually adopted; their biological father was Harry's cousin. Being that my father despises their dad so much, it's better for Eva and Margo not to be exposed to my father's snobbery.   
They are terrific friends and they're so fortunate to have the parents they have. I've met them on occasion and even managed to get over to Eva and Margo's house last summer and they are really caring people. The more I find out about "that Potter bastard," the more I see how mental and mixed up Father is, since Mr. Potter is not the horrid villain that my father paints. Harry Potter has a warm smile and is loving. His black hair is slowly graying.   
Eva and Margo's mum is wonderful too; she's always made me feel welcome there and tells me I can stay any summer I need to, since I think they get the feeling that my parents aren't the warmest people around. No, Draco and Pansy Malfoy aren't Parents Of The Year.   
So this is my life as it stands now. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ 

Dinner was the usual standard fare. Formal long dining room with silent, deferential house elves trucking in the food and neither of my parents thanking them, naturally. I look at these two people and wonder who they are beside high-standing members of upper-class magical society. Mother's parents are extremely wealthy and had bought this house for them when they married. Sleepy music played in the background, almost sounding like muggle music.   
Sometimes, we eat in silence; other times, Father talks on and on about work or about slights, real or imagined. Well...tonight, he was complaining about something that happened at his work and somehow his monologue turned to Potter.   
"...a troublemaker just like that Potter bastard was," Father took a sip of wine. "Potter never knew when to butt out and always had his little Irish nose in others' business..." he made Irish sound like a dirty word. Yes, Eva and Margo had mentioned that there was plenty of Irish blood in their family, in both their natural and adoptive parentage. "I'm sure you'll never forget, Pansy, how he snubbed me that first day I offered my hand in friendship."   
"I suppose you're mad because 'that Potter bastard' refused to butter you up..." I muttered under my breath on impulse. My father stopped jabbering in mid-sentence.   
"What?" he asked sharply, his gray eyes peering at me. I went back to eating my broccoli and didn't answer. "What?!" Father repeated, leaning toward me. "_What?!_" he almost was bellowing now.   
"I have homework..." I muttered and stood up and left the room before either of them could object. "Get a hearing aid, Draco..." I muttered, heading up the stairs to my room. Once I got there, I found an owl from Eva. 

_Hello! Hope your summer is going all right! Veve and Andy were over here earlier today and all of us, including Margo, played Quidditch, then took a swim in the lake_. _ I've been asking Mum and Dad if you can stay over soon and they're thinking on it_. _ They really want you over and love having you here_. _I do hope your parents will let you_. _ I'm keeping my fingers crossed, so hang in there_. _ Talk later_. 

_Love, Eva_

I owled back, saying things were still bearable here, but who knew how long it would last and thanked her and her parents for extending their invitation. I really do hope I can get away from here and go over to the Potts and Potters. It would make a great difference in my summer. More and more, I often wish I could just move out of here and either into the Potts and Potter place, the Granisons' or the Weasleys.' 

More later! 


End file.
